


steel (i've lost something terribly important, dear)

by zinkles



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Gen, alphonse-centric, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2013-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-26 00:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/959599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zinkles/pseuds/zinkles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>God, he misses being human.</p>
<p>{a repost off of my <a href="http://jaegerred.soup.io">soup.io</a> account}</p>
            </blockquote>





	steel (i've lost something terribly important, dear)

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: i do not own fullmetal alchemist.

Alphonse loves the rain.

The pitter-patter of water against rooftops, the puddles deep and shallow along the roads, hell, even the roll and clap of thunder that opens up the show for the white lightning. It’s beautifully dangerous, horrifically amazing.

But what he loves the most - what he longs for the most - is the cold, soft needlepoint-feel you get from standing outside in the rain. Feeling the water from heaven itself give in to gravity and pelt the earth below, soaking into his skin and diving it’s cold way under his clothes and trademark Elric-blond hair.

And you can’t get that in a suit of armor.

It’s impossible.

A body of steel and leather filled with nothing but a sad, aired out, blood-bound soul can’t feel anything. There aren’t any nerves along the shiny surface, not is there a brain to physically comprehend the rain pelting and rusting his host as he stands outside, bearing the cold he can’t feel while his brother is huddled in a blanket at the inn nearby, snoring next to the dying embers of the fire he should probably stoke and knock some life back into. 

After all, that’s all he can do.

No sleeping; it’s impossible. Suits of armor don’t get tired, they’re merely hosts, hunks of metal secured together with bronze-buckle-bound leather. The ultimate body for a restless soul, the devil’s dream for a worn out child.

And he misses sleeping. He honestly misses the comatose state of hallucinogenic dreams he won’t remember minutes after waking up. He misses the comfortable darkness that surrounds him. He misses it a lot.

He misses a lot of things.

He misses the feel of his brother rustling his hair, the feel of the soaked dirt squelching and staining his toes as he runs out into the rain, much to his mother’s dismay. He misses the scent of chalk on the wooden floors of his ghosted home, misses the silky texture of the residue the white utensil left on his fingers. He misses the cloying smell of the oil lamps and wax candles he and his brother used to read by at night, misses the twinge of heat his fingertips would shake a little at when it was his turn to strike the match. He misses the smell of freshly harvested produce from the nearby family farms and the sun beating down his neck as the three of them would make their way down to the open air market. He misses the taste of the perfect, juicy, fat apples Pinako would buy him, Ed, and Winry. He misses the crunch they would make against his teeth and the toughness the red skin would strike against his grinding molars as they squeezed the sticky sweet flavor out of the fruit’s flesh. 

God, he misses being human.

He misses it so much that it claws at his stomach like knives sawing their way through his other worldly innards, that if he could feel physical pain, he’d be writhing on the floor with bloody foam gargling it’s way up his throat with his muscles tensed and his eyes bloodshot and his vision blurred by the onset of tears he can’t stop because it hurts it hurts it hurts so goddamn much - 

And then he remembers that he can’t feel that pain, he hasn’t felt it for a long time. He can’t start feeling remorse for this body because his brother gave a goddamn arm for it and almost died and subjected himself to two pieces of metal latched onto his stubs forever and ever. He can’t be ungrateful, he’s not a brat, he knows he’s not a brat. So he’ll do his best with this suit of armor, clunking around with his brother, looking for some way to get his body back. He’ll do his best with his sleepless nights, stoking the fire or reading or making sure no idiotic bugs get into the room. He’ll take care of his brother for all the times he was stuck in a rut, stuck in places he can’t quite remember. He’ll deal with this steel prison - no, vessel - because his brother gave it to him, because his brother gave up his dominant arm for his soul to reside in a tall steel suit that he chose in a panic. 

It doesn't matter what he’s lost, what he’s missing, he’ll stay in this steel body for as long as it takes.

**Author's Note:**

> written on: 07 July, 2013
> 
> alphonse is my most favorite character in fma guys like really i love him to bits and pieces uwu


End file.
